


I'll Make it Up to You

by spacegayofficial



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Woman on Top, also reader knows german for some reason just... go with it, bi!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegayofficial/pseuds/spacegayofficial
Summary: During a small break from traveling, you and Tovar have a couple of sparring sessions. Things quickly get tense.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Tovar/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	I'll Make it Up to You

It had been just a few months into your trip, which was exactly how long it took you to get through the ridiculously thick walls your Spaniard partner put up around himself. You all were headed east, for a second time according to him, some ridiculous trip his longtime Irishman (at least, you assumed so, his accent was hard to place) friend had been planning for a while. The only reason they agreed to hire you for this was because you reminded them both of someone they’d met on their last trip. Good with a sword, and apparently they’d learned women weren’t useless housekeepers while they were there. So, off you went, a measly three-person team, which they assured you was enough with your combined skills and intelligence, and their previous experience with this exact trek.

For the first while, the only person you managed to really get a conversation going with was the Irishman, William, with the Spaniard, Tovar, making occasional snarky comments or complaints while you spoke. He was… irritable, to say the least, but at some point into this you managed to get him to speak to you for more than a few words, and found him agreeable company after all. Combined with his good looks, the scar on his eye, how well he fought… you were done for, though you’d never tell him. You knew as well as anyone else starting something more than friendship with a business partner was a bad idea.

You were both well trained swordsmen, and enjoyed testing each other’s ability from time to time. And now was one of those times; you had all decided to camp out for a few days to rest after nearly a whole month of moving every single day. You earned a rest. Well, except for the sparring.

“You know, you could always just flash your tits at the enemy, it may be a better distraction than this flailing you’re doing,” Tovar jeered. He tended to do this when you sparred; apparently getting you angry made you more fun to fight. You tried not to let it get you too upset lest he actually get what he wanted; you knew he was just trying to ruffle your feathers.

“Are you just saying that because you want to see my tits?” you shot back, smirking a little as you went in for an attack. The sounds of your swords colliding as you both expertly blocked each other’s blows filled the air around your small camp.

“If I say yes, will you let me?” he asked, a marching smirk on his face as he took a few steps back and readjusted his grip on his sword.

You rolled your eyes. “In your dreams,  _ Arschloch _ ,” you answered, swinging at him with a shout. He blocked your blow, hooked his arm just right and sent your weapon flying out of your hand. You quickly rolled around him, pulling your second sword from its scabbard. “That’s why I only have one out at a time, by the way.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed, and you circled each other for a while again. It had gotten easier for you two to predict each other’s movements as you’d practiced together, so you needed to wait longer if you intended to try to do something the other wouldn’t immediately counter. He was the first to move this time, and thanks to the most annoying fake-out you’d ever seen, landed a blow to the armor on the outside of your arm, but a little too close to the edge of it for comfort.

“ _ Scheiße, sei vorsichtig! _ ” you shouted, your native German slipping out at the sudden threat of being cut by a sword in the middle of nowhere. “This is supposed to be friendly sparring, not cutting my arm off!”

“ _ Perdóname, hermosa,  _ it was not intentional,” he responded. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You kind of hated it when he called you terms of endearment; your Spanish wasn’t great but it also wasn’t so bad you didn’t know that he was calling you pretty. But, this incessant flirting going back and forth wasn’t really helping you dash your crush on this man. He’ll make it up to you? What? How?

Apparently you were lost in your thoughts for a split second too long and he saw an opening and took it, crashing into you, sending you falling to the ground. Your last weapon flew out of your hands, and his blade was at your throat, his face mere inches from your own. He had one wrist pinned above your head, and you tried not to pay attention to just how close his knee was to your core.

“Is this your definition of making it up to me?” you asked, laughing a little bit. You immediately regretted looking from his eyes to his lips, because you didn’t do it on purpose and you know he saw you do it.

“No,” he responded, reverting back to his usual short sentences; he was distracted by something. By you?

“Are you going to get off of me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows, doing your best to conceal the fact that honestly, this was fairly exciting to you.

“Do you want me to?” he asked back, his smirk returning to his face.

“ _ Mein Gott, _ Tovar, get off of me,” you groaned, using your legs and free hand to push him. He got up, and held his hand out to help you up. You took it, and he pulled you into him. You gasped, your eyes once again going to his lips. You really need to stop doing that.

“Why don’t we get something to eat, then we can go for round two, no?” he asked, that smirk still on his face and  _ god _ you’d love to smack it off of him, but you don’t. You just nod, a little bit taken aback by what he was doing right now. He chuckled, a noise you don’t hear frequently, then let you go.

You both made it back to your small camp, where William was waiting, roasting some animal he’d hunted over the fire in the center. The three of you ate in an uncharacteristic, and obviously tense, silence for a while. Finally, William broke the silence.

“I’m going to go out to scout for a water source,” he said. You’d been carrying some water with you, but it was getting low.

“Tomorrow?” you asked. It was getting late, the sun was fairly low in the sky already.

“I think I’ll go tonight. It gets fairly hot during the day, don’t you think?” he answered.

You shrug. “Do you think that’s a good idea? We’ve seen some animals and some nomads out here, it might be dangerous,” you said.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he responded, tilting his head towards his beloved bow.

You shook your head a little bit. “Whatever you say,  _ Verrückte _ ,” you resign.

“I’m not going to search for your body if you get yourself killed,” Tovar said.

“When’s the last time you did anything for me?” William asked.

Tovar shrugged, continuing to eat his food. Once you all were finished, William got on his horse and left, and you stood from the spot you’d claimed by the fire, stretching a little bit; sitting on the ground was not getting easier as you continued your journey.

“He’s probably going to get himself hurt, at least,” you said to Tovar once William was well out of earshot.

“Eh, well, he has it coming to him, he’s a proud bastard,” he responded, standing himself, and reaching for one of his swords. “Round two?”

“Sure,” you respond, grabbing one of yours and distancing yourself from the camp several paces so you didn’t accidentally get tackled into the fire or break one of the tents.

Usually Tovar immediately went to insults and derogatory remarks when you started sparring, but now he was unusually quiet, even for him. One of you misinterpreted this as needing to work out some kind of pent up aggression you’d gained in the past hour or so, and you weren’t sure if it was you or him, so this sparring session was fairly intense. You’d have bruises in a couple places come morning, and you’d be sore for sure. You were certainly glad you were still staying here for the next day or two. Eventually, after you’d worn each other out enough, you knocked Tovar to the ground, pinning him with your blade sloppily over his chest instead of directly at his throat, straddling his waist, and trying to catch your breath. You used your free hand to wipe some sweat from your brow.

You looked down at him, almost waiting for him to make a move, but he was looking up at you in… awe? What was that look on his face? Was he smiling? He never did that. Smirking was all you were sure he could do. Before you could think about it any more, he grabbed the collar of your undershirt and armor, and pulled you down, into a desperate, passionate kiss.

You recoiled out of surprise at first, but quickly corrected that and kissed back. You carefully slid your weapon out from between you, putting your hands on his face to pull him closer. His hands wrapped around your back, quickly sliding down to your ass and grabbing, making you laugh a little bit.

“Is  _ this _ making it up to me?” you asked again, practically speaking into his mouth.

“Why don’t we go back to your tent and you can decide for yourself?” he said, lowly, a new tone you hadn’t heard from him before.

You squinted at him, but smiled a little bit. You got off of him, gathering your weapons, and hurriedly walked back to camp. You threw your weapons and bulkier parts of your armor in a haphazard pile outside your tent, and climbed in, with Tovar close behind.

You were sure this would be fun, and feel fairly good, but you had already determined you would need to find release yourself; Tovar didn’t strike you as the kind of man who’d actually learned how to please a woman, not fully anyway. He wasn’t patient, his attention to detail was lacking.

Before you could get yourself comfortable in the tent, Tovar had flipped you on your back and had his mouth back on yours, his hands quickly finding the hem of your undershirt and pulling it over your head. You reciprocated this gesture, then quickly unwrapped the cloth you’d been using to keep your breasts under control, since a corset wasn’t really recommended fighting attire. He immediately took one nipple in his mouth, groping your other breast with his hand. You groaned, the intimate contact making your body practically erupt in flames. It had been far too long since you’d been with anyone. He swapped breasts, taking his time tasting your skin and feeling your flesh, like a starving man at a feast. You ran your hand through his somewhat tangled, messy hair, and then pulled him back up, kissing him again. You undid his belt, pushing his pants down. He leaned back to take them the rest of the way off, and you took a moment to take in the sight before you. Warm toned, scarred skin, covering softly defined, lean muscles. You licked your lips a bit before he dove back into you, his tongue darting into your mouth. You felt him push your pants down, just around your thighs, before his hand trailed to your pussy, which was already aching with need. You instinctively grabbed his wrist to guide him, to show him how to make you feel good, but he tensed.

“I know what I’m doing,” he whispered, his breathing already heavy.

“Is that so?” you asked, a smile coming on to your lips, your tone teetering on condescending. “Even some women I’ve slept with haven’t known how to pleasure themselves.”

“Women?” he asked, almost surprised at this admission.

“You’ve known me for months, surely you understand this passion can’t be contained to one half of the world,” you responded, smirking. “Besides, women make better lovers, anyway. More… graceful, the sounds we make are far more musical.” You didn’t actually have a preference. You were just saying this to get under Tovar’s skin, much like he gets under yours when you’re sparring.

“Well,” he responded, “allow me to prove you wrong.”

With that, he did something you certainly did not expect him to. He pulled your pants the rest of the way off your legs, then slid down, his hands pushing your thighs further apart. You let out a moan as you felt his tongue lick up your folds, lapping up the arousal that had already gathered. He lightly sucked on your clit, and you nearly screamed; after months now of not having been with anyone, and on top of that having been too tired or not having had enough privacy to take care of things yourself, you were quite sensitive. You jolted towards your first climax as he slid one finger into your entrance, another moan escaping your lips. Your hands were still in his hair, and you pulled slightly. He grunted into you, and then slid in a second finger. You hummed your approval, and gasped as he gave your clit attention again. His fingers hooked up just a bit, finding that soft spot, and you immediately came undone. Your legs clamped down around his head, trapping him there. He didn’t seem to mind, continuing what he was doing until you were pulling his head away by his hair. You took a moment to catch your breath as Tovar surfaced and crawled back up to kiss you.

“You apparently  _ do _ know what you’re doing,” you admitted, moaning as you tasted yourself on his lips.

“I told you,” he said, pulling away slightly to let you catch your breath.

You grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to the side, onto his back, and shuffled around in this small restrictive tent until you were on top of him. You did have to struggle a little bit to get him to lay down once he realized what was happening, but you finally got him pinned, hands on his shoulders, and smiled down at him.

“Only fair I return the favor, no?” you asked, letting go of his shoulders to sit up and properly straddle over his hips. Tovar moaned as you wrapped your hand around his cock, which was… much bigger than you were anticipating, since you hadn’t got a good look at it in the dim light and cramped space of the tent. You teased the head through your folds, moaning as it brushed over your clit, reveling in the noises it was drawing from him.

You lined yourself up, and started working him into you, slowly, savoring the stretch you were feeling despite being more than ready for him. His hands grasped your hips, and you had to push against him a little bit to be able to take your time to adjust to his girth. But, once you had him fully sheathed, you allowed him to guide you some, still taking liberties as you were able. He moved you up and down, but you took the initiative to grind against him, moving your hips in circular motions, deliberately squeezing your walls around him from time to time. For as quiet as he typically is, he sure is vocal in bed. Maybe women’s moans were more musical, but his were symphonic.

You landed on a particular pattern of hip movements that had the head of his cock rubbing against something sinful inside of you, and you reached down your body to give attention to your clit, beginning to near your second climax. His grip on your hips was turning nearly bruising, you were sure you’d have marks there, and you knew he was close himself.

“Perhaps I should start praying, as surely only a benevolent god would give the world something this divine,” he gritted out, his hips bucking up into you as you started to grind against him a little faster. His voice sent shivers through you, an interesting reaction you weren’t anticipating. Likely just because he doesn’t talk often, and the new raspy, gravelly quality from how near he was to his orgasm somehow made his voice even more pleasant to listen to.

“Divine?” you asked in between pants, incredulously. “ _ Schatz,  _ this is the definition of sin.” As you spoke one of his hands let go of your hip, coming up to pinch your nipple, not harshly, but enough to draw out another moan.

“If it’s sinful, then why does it feel like heaven?” he asked, that gravelly quality straining as he became even closer. You had no rebuttal to that inquiry, and instead just picked up your pace even more, grinding against him harder, pushing yourself over the edge. You moaned his name as you climaxed, steadying yourself on his chest as you continued to move your hips, drawing out your orgasm as long as you could.

Your orgasm triggered his, and he groaned something in Spanish you didn’t quite catch, your name in the mix. Both hands were at your hips again, holding you down with enough force it almost hurt, and you felt him fill you. You made a mental note to tell him to ask about that next time, but this was happening at an opportune time where it was safe.

You looked down at him, catching your breath once again, letting another smile spread across your face. You moved your hands up from his chest to lay down on him, making no moves to pull yourself off of him. As you moved, you kissed him again, softer this time.

“As stupid as the decision was, I’m glad William went to scout for water,” you mumbled into Tovar’s lips.

“As am I,  _ hermosa, _ ” he responded. He pulled one of your blankets over the pair of you, signaling to you he had no intention of pushing you off of him, or leaving. You were actually okay with that term of endearment this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick translations:  
> Arschloch: asshole  
> Scheiße, sei vorsichtig!: Shit, be careful! (the ß makes an “s” sound lmao)  
> Perdóname, hermosa: Forgive me, beautiful  
> Mein Gott: My god  
> Verrückte: crazy (as a noun tho)  
> Schatz: sweetheart/darling
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Come hang out and say hi over at spacegayofficial on tumblr!


End file.
